Free Seven Days: The Complete Story by Lindy Dale Page B

surfboards tucked their
under arms, great wide grins and wetsuits half peeled from their
bodies showing their tans. The sight of the two of them in those
body-hugging wetsuits is enough to cause throbbing in parts of my
body that are not used to the experience of late. And now, with
them standing in front of me like twins, I find I am unable to
avert my eyes.
    Not that I
want to. The view is rather nice.
    The feeling of
desire I’ve been attempting to supress since last night, that I’ve
told myself I’m not allowed to have, bursts into a flame. I want
them, I want them both.
    “Morning,
Sadie.”
    “Uh, hi.”
    What going on?
Why are they looking so smarmy? Well, apart from the fact they
probably know every girl on the beach has been watching them jog up
my path looking like Greek gods. “Good waves?”
    “Perfection.
We caught a few sets. Amazing what being on the water can do when
you need clarity.” Nicholas shakes out his wet hair and pushes it
back from his face. His eyes are twinkling with some sort of hidden
secret. Why isn’t he avoiding me? Why isn’t he angry? I hurt him
last night.
    Joel takes his
board and spikes it into the sand. He walks over to the table,
placing his hands on the back of the chair opposite me. His biceps
ripple and so do my insides.
    This is
ridiculous. I can’t look at him without imagining something crude.
I force myself to concentrate on Joel’s face and what he’s saying.
Not easy.
    “Nick and I
have been talking. Look, can we sit?”
    “Are you still
going to kill each other?”
    Or me?
    “Nah. We think
we’ve found a solution.”
    I motion to
the chair, though I’m not certain I’m going to like what they’re
going to say. Slamming my books shut, I stack them in some sort of
pile and focus on the two men. “So what’s the solution?”
    Nicholas
swallows. He’s looking nervous now that we’re down to the business
end of their visit. Joel on the other hand is looking like the cat
that got the cream. “We’ve got a proposition for you.”
    I don’t think
I’ve ever been ‘propositioned’.
    “Go
ahead.”
    “Have you got
anything to drink?”
    “Don’t you
think it’s a little early?”
    Nicholas
shrugs. “It’s beer o’clock somewhere in the world.”
    I sigh. He
seems anxious, like he wants to say something important but is
afraid I’ll clock him over the head with a book when he does. “I
have cider, I think.”
    I get up and
go to the kitchen. I scour the fridge and find three stray bottles
from a six-pack. I throw a few crackers onto a plate with some left
over cheese and dip because Mum always said you should offer guests
something to eat and drink. It’s only manners. Plus, I need a
minute to collect myself. Being so close to them both is making it
hard for me to think straight.
    When I return,
the boys have their heads together. Their voices are low and I
can’t hear what they’re saying but it’s obvious it’s about me
because they instantly go quiet when they see me return. They look
like two school boys caught smoking behind the shelter sheds,
though I sense whatever it is they’re about to share might be a tad
more serious than who gets the last drag of the cigarette.
    I put the
plate on the table and give them a bottle each. Then I sit
opposite, fighting the overwhelming urge to climb over it and curl
up in Nicholas’ lap. I can’t help it. The man is all unruly hair
and bare chest. How am I meant to resist that?
    I take a swig
of my drink, forgetting that the time has only recently ticked over
to lunch. “So, what’s up?”
    They look at
each other. They don’t seem to know what to say or maybe who should
say it. For some reason they seem hesitant. Then, Joel speaks,
“Nick and I mulled this over all last night and we’ve talked about
it again this morning.”
    “Like I said,”
Nicholas adds. “The ocean has a way of giving you clarity.”
    “Yeah,” Joel
agrees. “Whatever. Anyway, we’re assuming after what happened,